Ouroboros
by CorwinOfAmber
Summary: Where the mouth and tail of the snake meet.


Thanks to my beta reader, Uroboros75. And thanks to Dixiegirl256 and oconnellaboo, and anyone else who has encouraged me. May the road rise up to meet you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fringe. Don't sue me.

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><p><strong>Ouroboros<strong>

"...So I've torn holes in both the universes and they lead here, to this room. A bridge, so that we can begin to work together to fix..."

And then everything changes.

Both Walters, both Olivias, the underbelly of the DOD headquarters; everything disappears, replaced by a warm lightness, a sense of peace, and a muted awareness of all things for what feels to him like an eternity.

And then things changed once more. He's now standing beneath a stochastic star-scape, illuminated by random flashes of ghostly blues and reds and greens. A low drone fills his head from somewhere behind him, and he fights against a wave of nausea that threatens to take over his entire being.

Olivia is somehow standing in front of him. Her typical winter FBI uniform – a dark overcoat covering a neutral toned power suit and sensible shoes – has been replaced by a brown wool sweater, khakis and combat boots. Her hair, previously tied back, now blows free in the wind in a look he's always preferred for her. She's as gorgeous as ever; and yet, her face is stained with soot, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, and tears flow freely down her cheeks.

A broad smile appears on her face. "Peter!" She totters, and Peter instinctively steps forward to catch her in his arms.

"Olivia!" he pleads. "What happened? Where's Walter? I'm very confused..."

She grasps his shirt front with one hand, slips her other hand up to the nape of his neck and pulls his head down to kiss him, not unlike the first kiss they'd shared on the Other Side.

"Olivia?", he says against her mouth when he can breathe again. His arms have naturally slipped around her waist; she seems to be able to support her own weight now, though.

More tears flow down her cheeks as she cups his face in her hands and caresses it gently. "Shh..." she whispers, as if he's the one who needs comforting. "Everything will be all right now..."

He notices that she's older than the last time he saw her, but not as old as when she'd died. He guesses she's in her late thirties. But that would mean...

"Olivia... what happened? Please tell me!"

He grasps her shoulders and squeezes, not very hard, but just enough to get her attention.

She nods and gathers her thoughts. When she begins to speak, it comes with a manic urgency. "You were gone for a long time, but I knew you were missing. They thought I was crazy for awhile, but I eventually managed to convince Walter. By that time, the war had started and everything was going to hell anyway, so I decided to try to bring you back. The Observers tried to stop me..."

Belatedly, Peter notices they are surrounded by a ring of eleven columns of ash. The Observers can stop bullets, he notes, but they can't stop her.

"...but I burned them. It was them, Peter. The Observers. They were manipulating everything, manipulating _us_ our whole lives."

Olivia buries her face against his chest and Peter embraces her back. He presses his face in her hair; it smells of sweat and ash, a scent he finds as intoxicating as jasmine.

"Oh, Peter," she whispers. "I'm so glad I got to see you again before it all ended..."

She trembles. He holds her tight and watches the bursts of light – which he now realizes are vortexes opening and closing in barely perceptible instants – consume the world around them.

Olivia tenses in his grasp. "I have a message from Walter. I don't understand what it means, but he said you would. He told me to tell you to go back to the beginning a_nd to stop him from making the machine_. Then he died. I'm sorry, Peter... I'm so sorry..."

Peter is simply too numb to respond. He doesn't have to look behind him, as he now realizes exactly where he is standing.

Olivia dies in his arms, but that's all right. He hears the reality-shredding song of the Machine behind him.

He knows what to do.


End file.
